Blue Jeans
by vanderlylecrybabygeek
Summary: He walks in the room in his too cool jeans and your breath hitches in your throat.  Drake/Josh slash.


**My first slash fic - a songfic to Lana del Rey's "Blue Jeans."**

* * *

><p><strong>Blue jeans, white shirt,<br>Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn.  
>You were like James Dean, for sure.<strong>

He walks in the room in his too cool jeans and your breath hitches in your throat. You're sharing a room with him now. Sharing a room with Drake Parker. You're just so happy he knows you exist that you ignore the noise of disgust he lets out, ignore the way he rolls his eyes, ignore the way he doesn't reply when you say hello.

"I didn't want to share my room," he huffs under his breath. "I didn't want to share my room."

"I'm really sorry," you say because you just want him to like you, and you're not sure what else to do. You'd offer to move out, but there's nowhere else in the house to go. "Sharing a room will be fun! We can do all sorts of cool stuff! Like magic!"

You watch as Drake's face scrunches up, his nose wrinkles, and his eyes go far back into his head again. "Magic isn't cool, Josh," he tells you, and it's like it takes an incredible amount of effort to even talk to you. He climbs the ladder to his bed and plops down, slinging his guitar over his shoulder and letting it fall into his lap. He looks so effortlessly cool, and you just want to be him. A little bit.

* * *

><p><strong>You fit me better than my favorite sweater,<br>And I know that love is mean and love hurts,  
>But I still remember that day we met in December.<strong>

In time, Drake comes around, and you realize that in some weird way, you complement each other. He helps you to become a little bit cooler, and you help him to become a little bit smarter, but he's still someone you look at and worship. You wonder if he notices the times you stare a little too long, or laugh a little too loudly at his unfunny joke, or hug him more than a teenage boy would ever hug his stepbrother.

You think he'd have to notice, though, because there are times you fall asleep on the couch with his head on your shoulder, or he lingers too long when your hands brush, or you accidentally kiss each other from spur of the moment excitement and gratitude. And you just want Drake to feel the same because you know that this love isn't conventional. You shouldn't be having feelings for your stepbrother, but you do, and he's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen in your life, and you're slowly learning that you can't live without him.

You drop subtle hints here or there, but Drake never catches on. And you realize that Oprah was right – love is the hardest thing to have to deal with, especially when the one you love doesn't love you back.

* * *

><p><strong>I will love you 'til the end of time;<br>I would wait a million years.  
>Promise you'll remember that you're mine.<br>Baby, can you see through the tears?  
>Love you more than those bitches before.<strong>

You find Mindy Crenshaw. The love of your life, after Drake, of course. And she's safe. She's safe and pretty and smart and when you're with her, you stand on solid ground, not quicksand or an unsteady bridge waiting to crack. And you watch Drake with his string of dates – the girls who he can't remember their names, who all look exactly the same, who he kisses until he's satisfied and sets them free. And you know you love him more than those girls, but you know you can't tell him that.

And everything changes the night you wake up and he's in your bed, lips pressed against your skin.

* * *

><p><strong>Say you'll remember, say you'll remember,<br>I will love you 'til the end of time.**

And you wake up, and Drake kisses you. He _kisses _you. Not accidentally, not out of excitement and lack of airflow to the brain, but because he wants to. And you kiss him back. "I've always known, Josh," Drake whispers, and the words sound sweet in your ear. "I just needed to come around."

You can barely breathe as he's planting more kisses down your jaw line. You're not sure what's happening, but you can't tell if it's real or if it's fantasy because these types of things only happen in your wildest dreams, not reality. "Drake, I…"

"Shh, Joshie," he purrs, and you feel him smile against your skin. "Just enjoy the moment."

And you enjoy that moment and the many moments after that; many moments follow over the next few months – stolen glances, moments of hidden pleasure, and bliss as far as the eye can see. You manage to keep everything you do a secret from your family and friends, hiding away in janitor's closets in school, locking the door to your room, doing anything you can to get more of each other. Drake is everything you've ever wanted from the moment you first saw him, and now he's yours. He's yours.

But you know that his career is about to take off. You know that he's talented, and you're his biggest fan and manager, and you want the best for him, but you don't want him to leave. You don't want everyone to have a piece of him, and you know they undoubtedly will. You want to bottle up the feeling of watching him perform, sweat rolling down his face, hips swaying back and forth to the music. You thrive on being the first person to kiss him when he steps off the stage, being the first to hear the new songs, being the first to tell him what a great show it was.

And you love the feeling as you grind against his hips as he furiously tries to shimmy out of his dangerously tight jeans as his way of thanking you for being the best manager in the world. And you love that feeling. But as he gets closer and closer to the brink of success, you can't help but feel that you're running out of time. And this time might be your last.

* * *

><p><strong>Big dreams, gangster,<br>Said you had to leave, start your life over.  
>I was like, "No, please – stay here.<br>We don't need no money;  
>We can make it all work."<strong>

"I have to leave, Josh," Drake tells you, and you see that it's hurting him as much as it's hurting you.

"Don't," you say, and your voice is cracking as the tears flood your eyes. "We can figure all of this out. We can figure everything out."

"Joshie." He runs a hand through his hair and looks at you, guitar case in one hand, suitcase sitting at his feet. "I'd love to stay, but I can't do what I need to do if I stay here. Mom and Dad are fuckwits. I can't do what I need to do."

"I'll always support you."

He nods. "I know, but I can't stay, Josh."

And you want to think of a thousand reasons to make him stay, a thousand reasons to tell him why it's stupid to leave, but you can't. You can only think of one, and that one reason should be enough. "Me," you croak. "Me. What about me?"

The look in Drake's eyes is enough to break you as he puts down the guitar case and walks over to you, cupping your face in his hands. "I love you, Josh. I love you. I want you to come with me, but you'd be giving up on your dream if you followed me." Tears glisten in his deep eyes. "I'll call."

With that, he picks up his guitar and suitcase and runs for the door, leaving you to stare at those jeans that first caught your eye. And you wonder what you did to deserve all of this.

* * *

><p><strong>But he headed out on Sunday,<br>Said he'd come home Monday.  
>I stayed up waitin', anticipatin', and pacin',<br>But I heard he was chasing paper.  
>Caught up in the game, that was the last I heard.<strong>

You stay up at night waiting for your phone to ring. Mom and Dad aren't the slightest bit phased that he's gone because they know he'll come back eventually. It bothers Megan a little, but she doesn't let it show. You're not sure if he'll come back, so you wait for him to call. There are times you think about picking up the phone and calling him to tell him about everything, but you don't. He didn't say "call me." He said "I'll call."

You just want to know how he's doing because your life is so empty without him. The first time you find out is when you're flipping stations and his smiling face appears on MTV while they're talking about the hot new rising star Drake Parker. And you grin like an idiot because the love of your life is on TV. He's finally gaining momentum. And you pick up the phone to call him and finally do it, only to reach his voicemail. The sound of his voice breaks your heart. The voicemail beeps and you suddenly can't find your voice. "Um, hi, Drake. I saw you on TV today. You looked great." It sounds like you're talking to a stranger. "Call me. I miss you. I lo-" You stop yourself. He might not love you anymore. "Bye."

* * *

><p><strong>You went out every night,<br>And baby, that's alright.  
>I told you that no matter what you did,<br>I'd always be by your side.**

As the months pass, the news about rising star Drake Parker becomes less and less positive as more and more pictures surface of him stumbling out of clubs attached to various Hollywood starlets. You said you'd always support him, but you can't support this. It breaks your heart in two, and you just want him to call you. You haven't spoken to him since the day he walked out the door, though you've tried to call him many times.

You wonder if there are any other guys that he hasn't been photographed with. You wonder if he still thinks of you. You wonder why he still hasn't called. You wonder so much that it puts you into tears every time you think about it, and you think that maybe it would just be easier to forget about Drake altogether. Forget that he exists. Forget that you ever had anything with him. Forget all the late night kisses, the talks that spanned for the entire night, the taste of him, the cologne he always wore way too much of – forget all of it. You can't.

* * *

><p><strong>But when you walked out that door, a piece of me died.<strong>

You're starting to find yourself again a year after he left. No one really noticed a change in your demeanor except Megan, Craig, and Eric. And you eventually let it all spill out – you're in love with him, he was in love with you, and you explain everything you shared your senior year. All of them smile knowingly and say they figured, and you can't figure out how they all knew.

You're close to getting him out of your mind when you hear his new single on every radio station there is. You can't change the station without hearing Drake's voice, and it's like a knife in the heart every time you have to hear him. So you change the station. And never pay attention to the words.

* * *

><p><strong>I will love you 'til the end of time.<strong>

You don't think much of it when the doorbell rings one day. You open it ready for some delivery guy or Craig and Eric asking to hang out, and you find yourself stepping back when you see Drake at your door. He has gigantic sunglasses on that he takes off to reveal his bloodshot eyes, tear stains on his cheeks. "I missed you," he says, and his voice sounds tiny, like he's going to break down right there and start sobbing. "I couldn't bring myself to call you because I thought you'd hate me after you saw all the stuff on the news, and Josh, my new song, it was for you and you probably ignored it but it's called I Need You Now and just…Josh…I…" He loses it right there in front of you, and though you haven't seen him in a year and a half, in all the years you've known Drake, you know that Drake Parker does not cry.

He's standing on your porch looking thin, frail, and fragile sobbing like a child, so you do all you can do – you pull him into your arms and kiss his head. Suddenly nothing else matters – it doesn't matter that he broke you so badly, it doesn't matter that he was gone for so long. The only thing that matters is that he's standing in front of you right now. "I can't do it anymore, Joshie. I can't do it without you. I never should've left. The success is great, but I miss you, and nothing is worth it without you," he says, and you can barely understand him because he's crying so hard.

"Shh, Drake, it's alright. I'm here now." And you stroke his hair as his shoulders start to shake. "Let's go to our room," you whisper, and you're surprised at how easily "our" room flows off your tongue because you haven't shared it with him in so long. He nods into your chest and you guide him up the stairs, listening to him let out heartbreaking hysterical sobs.

You get him to your room and you fall to the couch, letting him fall with you. Drake slides his way into your lap, and you rock back and forth gently, wondering how he let things get this bad. Drake should be on top of the world, and instead he's come crawling back to you to sob and let you know he can't handle life.

"And you probably hate me," he cries, and you feel his frame begin to shake harder against you.

"I don't." You tried so hard to make yourself hate him, but you couldn't because he was your life for so long.

"You don't?" he sniffs, looking up at you with the striking resemblance of a scolded child.

You sigh, leaning in to kiss the lips you've longed to kiss since the day Drake left. "I will always love you."

"I love you, too," Drake tells you, and for the first time since he's returned, you see him smile.

"Don't leave me again."

"I won't," he says, letting his lips fall on yours, and you know that that's a promise.

**Say you'll remember, say you'll remember,  
>I will love you 'til the end of time.<strong>


End file.
